Henry The Navigator

My brother, Henry Thomas Leitke, came to visit me in the Czech Republic. Here is what we did:

1. First, we did all the touristy stuff, but we did it quickly and with full awareness that it was the necessary evil standing in our way of having some fun. We visited the castle, visited a few enormous and awe inspiring cathedrals that were apparently decorated by the same person, and went to the flea markets to rustle through the piles of magnetic bottle openers, offensively labeled t-shirts and iron-on patches that say “Prague Drinking Team‼” (these are for the British cromagnon-fratboys who come over in hordes to drink beer for a bit cheaper than in London.)

2. Next, we went to one of the oldest and best preserved medieval towns in Eastern Europe, Cesky Krumlov. We walked ye olde streets and drank ye olde local ale (500 years olde!) and enjoyed some really beautiful and well kept gardens. There are two bears kept in a pit under the castle bridge. The town has a particular charm to it; it is like all the good parts of Prague with none of the bad ones.

3.We went rafting down the Vltava River for a day and cruised in to various pubs and restaurants on the banks. This is the trip we met Andrew from Nairobi, Kenya, Vanessa from Melbourne, Australia and some British girl. This is also the trip where I contracted a viral infection in my lungs because the river is still polluted from communist (and to a lesser extent, post communist) chemical and sewage dumping (information that came just a little too late).

4. My infection was aggravated by our next day, a completely random and unplanned for 11 hour hike/wander through Southern Bohemia with our new friends from the raft. The first 9 hours were beautiful; it was the last two, the ones during the thunderstorm, that I think put me over the edge. We meandered from small rural town to smaller rural town, up and down the rolling hills; it was really a nice experience of the Czech countryside. The torrential downpour that soaked my body to the bone was only endurable due to the circular cheerfulness Henry and I cultivated. It would be dishonest to take all of the credit for our heartiness in weathering the storm, our upbeat pace through the grey tumult was also due, in no small part, to Paul Simon’s album Graceland, which we sung from beginning to end and back again. Our spirits were definitely not bolstered by the stone faced owner of a roadhouse pub that turned us out into the rain and cold without allowing us to call for a taxi of ever get a shot of whisky to warm our downtrodden souls.

5. We went rock climbing at the local crag.

6. We played Age Of Empires III: The War Chiefs and Age Of Empires III: The Asian Dynasties. I was the war chief Runs-With-Horses of the Sioux Indians who inhabited the American Great Plains and Henry was the mighty Tokugawa shogunate of 1500’s Imperial Japan.

7. We ate 500g steaks (that’s 1.1 pounds of meat) that were served on sizzling pieces of granite and washed them down with fresh and malty Pilsners.

And so, it was a good trip. I hope he can take something back with him, a wider perspective, a new outlook on possibilities for the future, a new appreciation for beer…but all in all it was just good to see my brother.

Stay tuned for new updates soon,

T

The Pearl of the Adriatic

My first morning was panoramic; white sun rising above the Adriatic was a warm welcome as I descended the mountain into Dubrovnik and began my tour of the Dalmatian Coast. Dubrovnik is the southernmost city in a thin stretch of land extending from the Croatian mainland down to Montenegro, a coastline roughly the same length as California’s.

The city itself is a story of rebirth. It was bombed to smithereens by Bosnians and Serbians during the conflict in the 1990s but was rebuilt nearly completely in the old style. The result is a clean and well built city that glimmers like a polished alabaster shell. Somehow Croatia managed to hold on to nearly the entire Adriatic coastline, isolating Bosnia from port access, but their prize did not come without payment. There was a lot of painful emotion in this city. From the nameless crosses to the “Dubrovnik Defenders” memorial, I felt the still emotion of a country too recently scarred with the horror of bombardment and open warfare.

A climb up the hill overlooking the city was an early highlight of the trip. I ran into some free range steer and some goats mulching in fields littered with remnants of concrete fortifications. It was unnerving to see pieces of rusty shrapnel, bombed out concrete bunkers, and destroyed machinery dotting the landscape just beyond the tranquil seaboard. Despite the cheerful attitude in the cities, the broken skeleton of the mountain whispered the residues of war. The pictures on Picasa are mainly of beauty, architectural and natural, but there are some places that reeked strongly of conflict. With that in mind... Croatia is beautiful!

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After enjoying the crystal
waters below the craggy cliffs of Dubrovnik, I moved up to Croatia’s second largest city, Split. It was a bit less of a tourist show and more of a normal Croatian town, I suspected, showing how average Croats live today. The living was modern with a well lit boardwalk and more boutiques and shops than Dubrovnik but there was a large quarter, still inhabited, that was first built by the Roman Emperor Diocletian as a palace getaway. For many years after its construction the palace at Split was reserved for royalty. However, after the fall of the Empire, the locals moved in and began outfitting it for communal living. Perhaps more interesting than the old palace ruins is the fact that families from Roman bloodlines traceable to antiquity have inhabited

the old quarter of this modern amalgamation for centuries. There was also a really eerie shrine to Jupiter, still intact; with a mildly satanic feel (Diocletian thought he

was the son of god. Apparently he wanted a place he could visit his dad to discuss the woes of divinity). I spent a good amount of time wandering the open veggie and fish markets. Experiences abounded: I bought tomatoes weighed out with fishing lures on an old balance scale, was targeted by a group of 40-something hustler/hooligans who played find-the-ball-under-the-moving-cups, and ate a sickening amount of gelato (basically, ice cream as far as I can tell).

Moving on:

I jumped a catamaran to the nearby island of Hvar to check out what all the rage was about. It was a beautiful town full of extraordinarily beautiful women, some of which chose the topless option. However, toplessness is often a catch-22…especially when flabby British yachters are involved. As bad as it was, I think it was a fair trade. I only wish I had had the pervishness to have taken a few pictures so I could convince everyone that Croat women are where it’s at. Unfortunately, Hvar was also the capital of fat bastards wearing speedos with their bellies hanging to their toes.

The hostel in Hvar was wild, mostly due to 2-liter bottles of beer and a crew of girls who were delightfully twisted; they played drinking games that would put Justin Wood in his place. I rented a boat with a few guys and we motor-boated the archipelago flat, stopping in coves, diving for shells, discovering a lost colony of bighorn sheep, and just losing ourselves in the deep blue abyss of the Adriatic. It was a great town but it wasn't exactly my scene. It had a bit too much of the resort atmosphere with far too many yachts that I didn’t own.

On to Korcula: The perfect little seaside villa.

This place was by far my favorite part of the trip due in no small part to the living legend, a South African man named “Z”, who ran the only hostel on this otherwise sleepy isle. Steel buckets of booze, shots of moonshine for flashing your ass to the moon, endless nicknames, bullhorn announcements, Point Break, and enormous sausage sandwiches all made the OneLove hostel a very special place. I connected with some really cool Australians here and was very happy to simply enjoy the lower prices and the traditional food while soaking up some clear coastal sunlight.

Croatia was magnificent. It was the perfect blend of luxury, budget travel, authenticity and natural beauty. The pearly cities and the fresh sea atmosphere was everything you could want from a summer getaway.

Check out the pics on Picasa, there are a lot more! (they save me from writing too many adjectives).

Livin' the dream,

T